End of Peace
by Ninsetta Tristel Sundar
Summary: After years of life as a mortal Nathalie faces a return to the world she once tried to escape. Chapters 2 & 3 up. Rating is for language only..
1. The Wrong Choice

So in any case this is one of my better attempts at writing fanfiction in this area. No not all of these characters (or for that matter their world) are mine. Yes it is a pity. Not too sure about pairings or even when it takes place. Review please. I'd like to know if anyone thinks its worth continuing. And what you think should happen next. I'm open to ideas (I have a few of my own but they haven't really taken form yet).  
*End of Peace-Chapter 1-The Wrong Choice*  
  
Staring at a computer screen with her name and the date at the top was not what Nat wanted to be doing on her Friday night. Not even close to what she wanted be doing. But she needed to write her scholarship essay soon, and it would really be best to get it out of the way now. But the words weren't flowing and before she knew it she had picked up the phone and dialed Hannah.  
  
She and Hannah hadn't really been close since freshman year, but they still talked every once in a while, and Hannah would be doing something tonight. Something that would distract Nat from her constant worries about the future simply because it was guaranteed to be different then Nat's normal Friday night routine of going to Lina's Cafe with her friends or chilling with her boyfriend Eric. These thoughts had been running through her mind since she had glanced at an old picture of Hannah on her desk when she had sat down almost an hour before to get to work.  
  
"Hey, Hannah? It's me Nat."  
  
"Oh, hi."  
  
She sounded confused, and Nat realized that they hadn't really talked in a few months. Not since Hannah had hooked up with that wierd guy and gone kind of goth.  
  
"So...um, what are you doing tonight? Cuz I realized we haven't hung out in awhile and I missed you, and I really don't want to stay in and write this essay tonight."  
  
"Well good to know I still rate above an essay. I'm going to a party. I don't know if it's your scene, but you could always come and see. I'll pick you up in a few minutes if you're interested, but we need to hurry. I was on my way out the door when you called."  
  
"Sorry. That sounds great, though."  
  
"Ok. Pick you up in a few."  
  
"Wait. What should I wear?"  
  
"I dunno. Whatever you want. It's a pretty diverse crowd. Well see you soon."  
  
"Kay. Bye."  
  
Putting down the phone, Nat decided she needed to change. Hannah's crowd was always really big on being "unique" and she wanted to fit in. So, she went to her closet, and searched for something suitable. She finally decided on her beloved black corset top, a floaty calf length white skirt, and her black and white rose cameo necklace and earrings. She put her dark brown hair back in a loose bun, put on a little eyeshadow and lip gloss, and was strapping on some heels when she heard a car honk. With one shoe only half on and a purse in hand she ran out the doors, pausing only to shout to her parents that she was going out and grab a white rose from the vase in the hall to stick in her hair.  
  
She got in Hannah's white Volvo and made small talk. They complimented each other's outfits, and talked about mutual friends for as long as they could. But then conversation lapsed into a somewhat awkward silence as both girls contemplated what more they had in common. Finally Hannah broke the silence.  
  
"Listen, Nat...It's a wierd party we're going to. And I may want you to leave before you want to. So if I say we should go, we should go, and I'll explain later."  
  
"What do you mean wierd? Is it just wierd people like you or is it dangerous? Are there people doing drugs or something that makes them lose control?"  
  
"Well no it's just...they're vampires. I know you probably don't believe me, but it's true, and if you're around too late you might be dinner."  
  
"And you won't be?"  
  
"Well, no. Jaylen protects me. Do you understand?"  
  
"Actually, yes. That guy I dated last year was trying to be a vampire hunter. So I'm actually pretty familiar with the whole thing. These aren't some of your more peaceful and controlled vamps I take it?"  
  
Nat thought that perhaps mentioning Robert had been a mistake. She had broken up with him almost as soon as she had found out. Granted she hadn't really cared that much about him. But she still didn't want to lose someone else to power.  
  
"No. But they're not bad to hang around with usually. I wouldn't mention knowing a hunter though. That might get you in trouble."  
  
"Ok."  
  
There was another long silence in which each girl contemplated the conversation. Nat was particularly disturbed. She regretted that she didn't trust Hannah enough to tell her the truth about how she knew about vampires. And she was kind of anxious about seeing people with power again. It might make her regret what she had given up.  
  
Before long they pulled up outside a large house on Lakeland Ave. There were a lot of cars and music was pouring from the house. It looked like any party. Nat couldn't feel any power signatures anymore but she thought it would probably be strong here. The door opened as they got to it and Nat followed Hannah inside the crowded room. Hannah went straight towards a guy on the other side of the room and pulled Nat over to meet him.  
  
"Jaylen, this is my friend Nathalie. Nathalie, this is Jaylen."  
  
"Hi. I prefer Nat actually. Do you know where a bathroom is?"  
  
"Nice to meet you. I think there's one down the hall and to the right." He said, looking at Nat, with an odd expression on his face. She hadn't shaken his hand, or met his eye, and he wondered if she had something to hide.  
  
"Do you need me to go with you Nat?" Hannah asked, sounding a bit confused herself. Nat was usually more friendly than this, and she was worried something was wrong.  
  
"No, I'll be fine. I'll catch up with you later, ok?"  
  
And with that last hurried comment Nat was heading towards the hall. She was hoping to God that Jaylen didn't recognize her. The last time they had met she had been calling himself Taleen and they had not parted on good terms. In fact, as she recalled she had disappeared after laughing at him. More specifically laughing at his swearing that he would kill her if it was the last thing he ever did.  
  
With her thoughts on what she on her impending doom she failed to see the man in front of her. So she managed to be more than a little disturbed when she found herself slamming into him. Shaking her head a few times in a haphazard attempt to clear her thoughts she looked up at him. He was attractive. Then again, what vampire wasn't?  
  
"I'm sorry. I was looking for the bathroom."  
  
"I like your necklace."  
  
"That doesn't really help me find the bathroom, but thanks anyway."  
  
And she started to push past him. She thought she remembered who this one was. Nikolas. And she'd run into him before too. Suddenly her essay was seeming very appealing. And she was beginning to really regret coming out with Hannah. After all she had done to avoid power and magic and lead a normal human life, here she was surrounded by a group of people who had more than ample reason to kill her. If they ever realized who she was. And she really hoped they wouldn't.  
  
"Do I know you?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
This was not good. This was in fact very very bad. He was moving out of idle speculation over something familiar about her into actually placing her in his memories. And the way his hand was brushing her skin, lightly rubbing her necklace was, to say the least, disturbing.  
  
"I'm sure. You don't know me. At all. Never met me. I've never been to a bash throughout my entire boring completely normal human existence."  
  
She thought she might have overdone it a bit there. A lot actually. But she never had managed to totally cure herself of that tendency to babble when she was afraid. And while she could physically tell a lie now, she still couldn't quite make herself do it. And now the light was dawning. She could tell. He had just figured it out. 


	2. Bad Wisdom

None of this belongs to me except Nat/taleen and the Guard. The rest of the world and my two favorite twin vamps belong to AAR. A big shock, I know. Hmmm. The language in her spell is a language I'm making up for my fantasy epic.and there's not intended to be any relation between her raising the dead and Anita Blake (someone pointed the possible resemblance out recently and I thought I should clear that up). Oooh. Damn. I'm spoiling my own story. Bad me. So in any case this takes place over a year and under a decade post Shattered Mirror. I think that's about it. Read and enjoy. (and please please review! I'll mention you in my bio.not that you really care but hey.plus I'll review your stuff.) Oooh. And also anything between and is people talking in eachothers' minds. Kay. So that is really it.  
  
~Bad Wisdom~  
"Taleen, right?"  
  
Shit. That was it. There is no way she was going to walk out of here alive tonight. And after all that work too. Damn. Now the question was whether she should admit it or not. Perhaps a blank stare would work. And perhaps he would move so that she could make a run for it.  
  
"It's been a long time, hasn't it?"  
  
Or not. Oh well, she hadn't really thought that was going to work. It was never that easy. Or at least it never had been before. It had been eighteen years since she'd messed around with this kind of trouble and she found herself wondering if perhaps she wasn't getting a little old for this kind of shit.  
  
"Not really."  
  
"Does anyone else know you're back?"  
  
"No. But there's really no need for you to let them know. It was a mistake coming here and if you would just move out of the way I'll make a discreet exit and you can pretend you never saw me."  
  
"I don't think so."  
  
"Right." She hated the smirk he had on his face right now. Just because she just made what was quite possibly the biggest mistake (and probably the last mistake) of her life by coming here did not mean he could mock her. "I didn't think that work."  
  
"Then why did you bother?"  
  
She fought the impulse to give his chest a nice shove and tell him to back the fuck off. She knew it wouldn't really do any good. In some part of her mind she realized she must be really stressed if she was swearing again. But that little voice was covered up by the thought that he was too close to her and that she didn't have the space or the strength to get away from him.  
  
"It's always worth a try."  
  
Nat was trying to keep her voice even at the same time she tried to keep her heart rate down. She suspected she was failing at both and she knew that he suspected it. His eyes were laughing at her as he bent his head and kissed her throat. Shit shit SHIT she thought. It wasn't midnight yet so he couldn't actually do anything (unless he loses control) but somehow that didn't really make her feel any better.  
  
"Nat?"  
  
"Hey Hannah."  
  
He raised his head, the expression on his face betraying the bloodlust just below the surface. He was still laughing. There were really no words that could accurately express how much she hated him right now.  
  
"You go by Nat now?"  
  
"Nathalie." She said at the same time that Hannah asked, "Did she ever go by anything else?"  
  
"You haven't told your friend about your past then?" He asked, knowing she hadn't and knowing that she didn't want her to find out like this.  
  
"What past?" she asked, her tone light and somehow more dangerous. She was trying for unconcerned. And failing. And now there was the question of what she wanted to do. She could beg or she could fight. She knew in the back of her mind how that fight would go too. She was faster (or she had been) and she had equal stamina, but she wouldn't be able to take him without a weapon. And to even think about winning she would have to open herself up to the magic again. That wasn't something she was totally sure she could afford to do. But, if she tried to avoid using magic and begged he would laugh, and probably kill her. Or she thought, she could bargain. She was good at bargaining. Hell, she'd give up her soul if she thought it would keep her alive. Or maybe she already had.  
  
Everyone had a price. She knew that from experience. And she decided now was as good a time as any to make her shot. Now was as good a time as any to finally admit to herself that it was better to risk using power again than it would be to die.  
  
What do you want? she asked him, reaching into his mind.  
  
Just a little fun. You don't object do you?  
  
He pressed his thumb into her throat a little harder then. Just enough to make breathing hard. Just enough to leave a bruise. His other hand brushed a loose strand of hair off of her face and his lips touched hers. This was not going well. She was at his mercy and he knew it.  
  
That wasn't what I meant. I want to know what you want over everything else. What you want so badly you can taste it.  
  
Maybe I want your blood, or maybe I just want to see you broken.  
  
He was trying to psych her out. Trying to make her wince again. But before he had answered her she had seen something else. She had felt the truth there. He wanted his brother.  
  
What happened to Kristopher, Nikolas?  
  
She had known it would be a loaded question. But she hadn't been expecting the blow to her head. It was a hit that left her barely able to stand. If she had been human it would have done some permanent damage. Luckily, she was not. But if he kept hitting her like that she might get knocked out. And she wasn't sure she'd wake up. But if she was going to die tonight, she would prefer it fast then slow. And it would be slow if he let the rest of the vamps here in on it.  
  
If he's dead I can bring him back.   
  
What?   
  
She could hear the anger in his tone, but it was mixed with confusion and pain. The kind of pain that sinks deep into the soul and tears away all remainders of humanity. It was a kind of pain that she was intimately familiar with, and for just a moment she felt bad about using it against him. But just for a moment. Then she remembered that he would kill her and her resolve returned. She had gotten weak with time.  
  
I can bring him back. That's my strength remember? Bringing the dead back to life.  
  
She'd only brought one older vamp back from true death successfully. And that had been at least a hundred years prior, at close to the height of her power. But she might be able to do it. And she was more than willing to risk her life on that gamble. It would give her extra time. It was enough to make her feel okay about taking advantage of his obvious weak spot. Of something that obviously brought him pain. Besides. This was all his fault for remembering her.  
  
"Nat? What's going on?"  
  
Hannah sounded worried and Nat knew that if she got any closer or anymore involved then that might be it. She knew she was only going to get one chance to get out of this house alive (although how long she would stay alive once she was outside the house was a whole other matter) and she had to make it work.  
  
Get me out of here and I'll bring your brother back from the dead. Tonight.   
  
Perhaps it was a bit hasty of her, but Nat can't make herself feel that she is chasing anything but the best option. Better one vamp than a group any day of the week.  
  
He doesn't respond with words. He just pulls her a bit closer and blinks them out of there. Straight to a room decorated in black and white. He releases her so quickly she starts to stumble and then he shoves her into the wall. As her head hits against it, she thinks she will have one hell of a headache the next morning if she survives the night. It's a big if.  
  
He looks at her with anger in his eyes, and the only think she can think is at least he isn't laughing at me anymore. Which is ridiculous, because she knows that she was safer with the laughter in his eyes than this anger barely covering pain so raw that she can feel it.  
  
"If you can't do it I'll kill you."  
  
How odd that his voice was so calm when he said that. He doesn't look calm. With her power she can sense that he is barely in control and his aura is battering at the edges of hers. In some part of her mind the danger is exciting. A fix she hasn't had in a long time, but that she had convinced herself that she no longer needed. This, she knows is why she hasn't used a drop of magic for close to a century. Well, excepting the occasional spell for rebirth. And the power that she has already used tonight.  
  
Finding her voice she tells him she will need some things. Four candles, two black and two white, a bowl, lavender oil, and something belonging to the dead. He starts at the last part of her request. She realizes Kristopher must have died recently if his brother has not adjusted to thinking of him as dead. Or maybe it is just that he's not used to hearing someone speak of his brother so casually, as nothing more than part of a job or spell. She wonders how she would respond if someone were to talk about Karein or Amaria that way.  
  
He looks at her for a moment before disappearing again to get the things she has requested. She knows that she could leave now. That she could make a run for it. But what would be the point? He would find her and she can sense that her death would not be a quick one. So she sat on the bed and found herself examining the artwork around her.  
  
She approved of his choice of colors. Black and white had always dominated her wardrobe, although never her point of view. Life had never been as simple as that. But the panicked anger that she could sense in the jagged lines was not simple. It was much deeper and much more familiar. She wondered what had been there before it was painted over. She could see the faint lines beneath the paint and found herself tracing them with her eyes. From the few she could see they looked like portraits. Why had he covered them up in such haste, she wondered?  
  
Before she could spend anymore time analyzing the décor he appeared back in the room. Carrying the things she had asked for. Now there was only one thing that she needed. The corpse. Although she suspected that that would not be the phrase she used when she asked him for it. It might set him off again, and she couldn't afford that.  
  
"I'll need to do this over his body."  
  
"There're only ashes left. I presume that won't be a problem."  
  
Evidently he had regained some of his control while he was away from her. His voice was back to its former mocking tone, and he had managed to hide most of his surprise at her comment. Although why he had been surprised was beyond her. Surely he didn't think she would be able to raise his brother from thin air. Or maybe he did. For all their power most vamps knew relatively little about actual magic.  
  
"Are you going to get them?"  
  
"Are you going to do it right here?"  
  
"Why not. Nowhere better for it."  
  
"Then I suppose you should get started."  
  
She was about to remind him that she needed a body, or at the very least, ashes before she could do anything, but he stopped her with a finger pressed to her lips. And he handed her a black box inlaid with a white rose pattern. The design was similar to that of the knife that lay on the floor, but with the opposite colors.  
  
This was it, she realized. The moment of truth, where she would find out if she still could use her power the same way she used to. She hoped that a century of neglect might've left her magic stronger rather than weaker, but it was hard to say. But it was pointless to worry, so she began to light the candles. One in each of the four directions, for each of the four elements, air, fire, water and earth. She kneeled just next to the earth candle, and steadying herself, picked up the knife. She had always disliked this part. She pressed the sharp side of the blade to her wrist and cut over the bowl, letting her blood splash in, coating the silver. Nikolas was standing close by, watching her. She heard his slight intake of breath, and realized he hadn't fed yet. Oh well. Not her problem.  
  
Dipping the knife in the blood, she coats the tip before bringing it out far enough to add a drop of oil. And then, saying the ritual words for the opening of a great spell, she places a drop of blood and a drop of oil in the flame of each candle. She continues to chant, praying to God that he grant her request.  
  
"Nea tri.  
  
Bei Limnia ny Kymria shei  
  
Nea tri  
  
Bei Lundra ny Sundar shei  
  
Shei tri.  
  
Nea shtei ereian a nyka limnia."  
  
("I am of three.  
  
I am between light and dark.  
  
I am of three.  
  
I am between sun and moon.  
  
I am the third.  
  
Grant me the power to make this right.")  
  
She felt it flowing into her. Felt the energy pulsing just under her skin, the familiar fire brushing against her mind. The candle flames were turning the pale lavender of her magic, and all that was left was to free the body. She raised the box with the ashes into the air with power and used her magic to make them settle in the faint outline of the body. And then, taking the knife, she dripped a drop of blood where the heart would lie. And then the ceremony was over. From here, it was just power. It would be power that would recreate the physical form, and power that would recall the soul to its owner.  
  
And she called. Letting her magic spin in tendrils, reshaping ashes into the form that was still so clear in the mind of Nikolas. The ashes wanted to reform, wanted the spark of life. She gave it to them, watching them swirl and slowly gain solidity and color. Leaving a naked man. But it was not finished yet. She had yet to call the essence.  
  
So she let her mind travel with her power, seeing herself and the room, before sweeping through walls and above lights. She swept up and down at the same time. Finding, as she had before, the realm of the dead. Floating there she searched through shades of gray, through faces at once old and young. Delving into pain and peace, she searched for the one she needed.  
  
When she found him she pulled him back with her. He didn't fight her. Sometimes they did. But he seemed to want to return to his brother as much as he was wanted. In part of her she knew this was a good thing. They were easier to refix to the body if they wanted to be there.  
  
She sensed the moment when the soul reentered. It had managed without her which was rare, but fortunate. Then she let herself withdraw. Felt the power flowing out and in, settling back. And slowly, she returned to herself, she saw through her own eyes again. The exhaustion hit in a wave, and for a moment she thought she might not be able to finish. But in the end she did, saying "Jentray" to end the spell as she blew out the candles. And then it was too much.  
  
As the blackness started to slip around her, her body relaxing without her permission she saw Nikolas kneeling by his brother. And she felt a pain she had thought well buried rising up again. And then she felt nothing. 


	3. Waking Dream

I think you all know the disclaimer drill so I shan't sport with your intelligence by bothering. Hehehe. I've always wanted to say (or write as the case may be) that. A third chapter in one day. Wow. I'm really rolling here. So I know I've left a lot unexplained, and I don't actually explain much more of it here. But it's coming I swear. Bit by bit. I actually think I know where I'm going with this, shockingly enough.  
~Waking Dream~  
Waking up, she felt like she had just fallen asleep. It seemed like no time had passed, and yet she knew that couldn't be true. At first she didn't know where she was. The room wasn't hers, and she wondered if her parents were worried. She wondered if Hannah knew what had happened. And she wondered why she was still alive. When she had passed out she had been fairly sure that she wouldn't wake up again. She had used more than enough power to kill her. Maybe she was stronger than she had realized.  
  
It was night again and the room was dark. She knew she should get up and explore. Maybe even try to get out. But somehow she couldn't make herself move. She was still tired, and she wasn't ready to face the repercussions of her actions yet. She hadn't used magic for so long, and yet now that she had it was already a part of her again. As weak as it was, it was there. That slight warmth in her aura. She wasn't sure that she could give it up again. She had had more than enough of humanity in an attempt to leave behind her pain, but it was becoming progressively more obvious to her that she hadn't gotten over anything. She had just buried it.  
  
With the pain of that realization facing her she decided it was time to go back to bed. She could face this later. When she could form full thoughts. And when her head wasn't pounding quite as loudly.  
  
When later came she was no longer alone in the room. She knew that before she opened her eyes. She could sense power on the other side of the room. He was sitting in a chair. When she opened her eyes he smiled. It was not a nice smile, but it wasn't cruel either. Her night vision was better now, just from the little bit of magic she had let back in, and she wondered what he was smiling about.  
  
"You finally woke up."  
  
"Yeah." Her voice sounded odd, still full of sleep it was rustier and deeper than usual. "How long have I been out?"  
  
"About five days. I wasn't sure you were going to wake up at all."  
  
He had sounded almost regretful there. Odd when he had been considering killing her himself. In a more morbid part of her thoughts she contemplated the idea that maybe that was why he was regretful. Maybe he just wanted to kill her himself.  
  
"How's your brother?"  
  
"Fine."  
  
"Good."  
  
"You really mean that."  
  
She found the amazement in his tone rather insulting. Who did he think she was? But she bit back the more caustic comments that came to mind, and instead said,  
  
"Yeah. I do. I know what its like to lose a twin."  
  
"But you can raise anyone from the dead."  
  
"No. Before last night I hadn't done it in a century. And even then I can only raise humans. It takes more power than I'll ever have to raise another member of the guard. So my brother was out of my reach."  
  
"Did you try?"  
  
"No. I knew I couldn't. He cut the bond between us with his magic so I wouldn't feel him die. But without that and with us being unable to find his body there was no way it was possible. If it had been I would have tried. I loved him."  
  
There was an awkward silence then. A silence where she thought back to the swirl of spirits. She had seen all of her friends there. She had even seen Amaria and Dethran. But not Karein. She didn't know why she couldn't find him. Everyone else had severed their connections the same way. And she had seen them. Deep inside her she feared that he didn't want to see her. She closed her eyes and tried to see him there. Tried to see the dark hair and eyes that were so like her own. She tried to see his form. It was getting harder. And that pained her more than anything else.  
  
He had come over to her side as she sat there curled into a little ball, her eyes closed tight. He let his hand touch her shoulder. There was something comforting about that slight touch. It made her want to curl up in his arms, and cry. She hadn't done that in a long long time. Not since her father had died. After that, her mother had been more than willing to give her up to the Guard for training. Since then she had never had someone to comfort her. There had never been the time to sit and cry. Now there was. And the intensity of her need scared her.  
  
He squeezed her shoulder lightly and sat facing her on the bed. His hand slid under her chin and forced her to look at him. A tear had somehow escaped her eye. She didn't realize until he caught it with his fingers. She reached inside of herself, searching for the control that had served her so well in the past. She wrapped it around herself, an invisible shield.  
  
"When was your brother killed?"  
  
"Last year."  
  
"How?"  
  
"He was looking for Sarah. Dominique had killed Nissa. He was afraid she would find Sarah."  
  
"Did she?"  
  
"Yes. But not before she killed him."  
  
"You killed her?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
She hadn't killed Karein's killer. Hadn't even known who it was. She had her suspicions, but she wasn't sure. And it didn't matter. Whoever it was was easily strong enough to kill her. But that might not have mattered if she had been sure. But the magic wouldn't tell her who was responsible. So instead of taking it out on the person who was responsible for her pain, she had taken it out on everyone else.  
  
"What about your twin?"  
  
"I don't know what happened to my brother. I was sick and injured. When I fell asleep he was there. When I woke up he was dead. Along with the rest of my friends. I never knew what happened or who did it."  
  
"When did it happen?"  
  
"Almost 120 years ago. I stayed with the Guard for a while after. But I wasn't really there anymore. Eventually I just left."  
  
"I thought you couldn't leave. That once you were part of the Guard you would be forever."  
  
"Yeah. Well. I didn't exactly ask permission before I left. It's one of the reasons I wasn't using magic."  
  
"Until you ran into me."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Why were you there?"  
  
"I was bored. I wasn't really thinking."  
  
"It was stupid."  
  
"I know."  
  
She thought the conversation was taking a decided turn for the worst. She didn't want to hear from a vamp of all people, about how incompetent she was. And she didn't think she was up to this song and dance right now. What she wanted was to go back to sleep.  
  
"What exactly is the Guard?"  
  
"It's complicated. I don't feel like explaining it right now."  
  
Stop asking questions, she thought. She couldn't take anymore of this shit. Her head was starting to pound. It always did that when she'd overextended herself.  
  
"Look. Do you have some Advil? I think my head may explode."  
  
"I'm sure there's some somewhere. Are you alright?"  
  
"No, I am not alright. I have the worst headache imaginable, I feel like I've been run over by a semi, and You won't let me sleep."  
  
She knows it's not all his fault, of course. But pain makes her temper short so it doesn't really matter. That and she really doesn't want to talk about the past anymore. The wounds are too raw. And her headache really is approaching mammoth proportions.  
  
"All you had to do was ask."  
  
"Right."  
  
By the time she says that she has curled into a ball. She is so intent on avoiding him that she doesn't see the look on his face change from its usual expression of cynical mild amusement, to something much deeper. The look on his face is now one of concern. He is seeing for the first time, levels to someone he had assumed was his enemy. Everyone else was. And, although he would have killed her in a second the last time they spoke, he is now worried about her.  
  
He glances down at her one last time before he leaves the room to get her Advil, and he wonders what he will do with her. He cannot kill her now. Not after she raised Kristopher. But just what he will do is beyond him. He thinks that what he would like to do the most at the moment is to find out exactly who and what she is. But he suspects she will fight him on that. Which, he decides, is just fine, as he rather enjoys fighting with her. 


End file.
